


A different sort of cartharsis

by JayGreen12 (vinceLaChroix)



Category: Opeth (Band), Tomb Raider (Video Game)
Genre: Bar, Epiphany, F/M, Gen, Music, One-Shot, cartharsis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 19:43:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3541619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinceLaChroix/pseuds/JayGreen12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lara goes down to a bar where a band is playing...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A different sort of cartharsis

**Author's Note:**

> Tomb Raider and the character of Lara Croft belong to SquareEnix and the latest game was developed by Chrystal Dynamics. The lyrics are from the album Blackwater Park and Ghost Reveries. Opeth holds the rights thereto and they were published by MusicForNations/BMG and Roadrunner Records respectively. I own only this idea. It is a translation of a text I originally wrote in German.

Descending down into the dark was the last thing she wanted but for this one evening she made an exception. Neon light isn’t at all like the shine of torches or burning kerosene and something about those stairs had attracted her. She could have walked down these steps blindfolded, free as they were from from the debris and filth of centuries past. Even so a hand hovered over the handrail. She no longer trusted stairs. Her mind envisioned worse spectacles at the bottom of every single one. This one didn’t lead to another display of human depravity but to a smoke filled barroom full of small tables facing a stage. A collection of haggard figures sat there nursing drinks or just clutching glasses. Some had their eyes fixed on the stage where a huge man was playing guitar. His curly hair almost touched his elbows on occasion interfering with his playing. She still hadn’t moved so much as one step away from the stairs but was watching him fascinated. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be in a far away place. Even his unfashionable moustache couldn’t disturb the picture of perfect melancholy.

Only when she reached the bar did her brain actually process what kind of music it was. A band was hiding somewhere behind the giant, drums, bass and electronica. His guitar playing on top of all that. Sometimes it was a deafening storm of distortion, sometimes it was all soft and gentle. With eyes wide and a glass clutched she sat in front of the stage and stared.

He sang occasionally. Though singing really didn’t do it justice. He screamed, whispered, hit notes clear as a bell and sunk to a deep, dying rasp. She took a sip and let her eyes wander across the room. Something strange, something wonderful was happening. Did everyone feel like she did? People drank, talked quietly in small groups or sat alone staring at nothing. What she would give to see behind all these eyes. it couldn’t be just her, could it?

_This poetry our blasphemy know the sounds of infamy_

She knew those well. Between the candles and the leftovers of generations past HE had preached every single blasphemy. Was it the madness of the priest that had pushed everyone on that island over the edge until nothing remained of men but a machine?

_I hide the scars from my past_

All that could be hidden anyway. Some would forever remain visible. The barman sure had noticed when he had served her drink. She wondered if he he’d seen her on TV. If he had he hadn’t shown it.

_Sick liaisons made this monumental mark, the sun sets forever…_

While in hospital she had learned how much the sea had left of the obscene monument on the island. The maddened crowd of reporters, archeologists and policemen were even now facing a puzzle whose pieces were broken beyond recognition. The two sole survivors did precious little to help solve it. All responsible were dead. The victims forgotten. But to forget was something the survivors would never be able to. Maybe in time she’d doubt how much had actually happened, now that it all lay under water or volcanic ash.

She tried to sort all these thoughts while listening to the strange musician. More and more she felt the music digging deeper into her heart. In the past she had thought about music as much as about going out or jewellery. At boarding school there had only been sneaking away to clubs where there was little except pounding beats and drugs. It had left her cold like ads for lipstick had. After graduation there had only been work, travelling and going from ruin to excavation to monument... but this, this was pure emotion. An aural embrace, enlightenment through the ears.. something that defied silly metaphors.

When the music became really loud she recognised herself in it, cursing the the mad friar as his cronies dragged her away from her friends. When it was fast, it reminded her equally of the hunt and of being chased, of taking a life in order to live. Sometimes the music went calm. It told her that she had made it in the end.

And then it was over. There was scattered applause but the singer’s smile said he didn’t care anyway. as long as someone had listened. She sat there stunned. A single decision tonight had felt more rewarding than a dozen sessions with the shrink. Could she do that? Did she posses any musical talent? Be brave, Lara, she thought. She drained her glass and stood up, facing him.

„Hey..“ she said.It came out twisted, both hesitant and bubbly. You had to be brave time and time again.


End file.
